


Inara's Problem

by alannablue



Category: Firefly, Serenity (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:39:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alannablue/pseuds/alannablue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inara has a sexy problem and only Mal can fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inara's Problem

**Author's Note:**

> Smut for smut's sake. Also, I would like to watch Mal squirm for once. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: Everything good and holy in this world, including the Firefly ‘verse, belongs to Joss Whedon, Tim Minear, their cohorts and minions, and MutantEnemy. I make no attempt to claim anything as my own except for my filthy mind.
> 
> Spoilers: None, but takes place after "Trash".
> 
> My lame Mandarin:  
> Zhòu mà = Damn  
> lǘ zi = ass, donkey  
> Qǐng = Please  
> Pì huà = Shit  
> biān cháng mò jí = beyond the reach of one's power, too far away for one to be able to help  
> bèn dàn = fool, idiot  
> Xǐng wù = wake up to reality  
> Zào wù zhǔ = God

“I reckon that I could buy me a whole mess ‘a purdy dresses now, huh, Cap’n?” Kaylee’s bright and shiny face is like to the best thing he’s seen in a while. Feels good.

“You betcha. And some earbobs, too, I’d wager.” Mal smiles at Kaylee and leans back in his dining chair to survey the mess hall. Zoe and Wash whisperin’ to each other, which can only mean they’re fixin’ to bolt outta here any second for their quarters. Jayne arguing with Kaylee intermittently, ‘bout some silly thing or ‘nother, while cleanin’ his knives. Preacher talking with River over a book, Simon watching on in silent approval. He must be glad she’s been doing better as of late. Inara…

“Where the hell is Inara?” Mal didn’t mean it to come out so ornery, but gorramitall, he was having a pleasant spell observin’ his crew being happy for once and she has to up and spoil it by not being there.

Kaylee throws a “we’ll-settle-this-in-a-minute” look at Jayne, who shrugs and continues making his knives shiny. “Inara ‘scused herself a while ago, Cap’n. Said she weren’t feeling too good.”

Mal frowns. Zhòu mà. He pushes back from the table and gives a nod to the group. “I’m just gonna go check on the ship.”

Kaylee hides a grin behind her hand as Mal turns and leaves the mess hall. Preacher and River exchange knowing glances as they watch Mal stepping out the door, and Jayne looks at the lot of them, confused.

“What in tarnation are y’all looking at?” Jayne asks loudly, too loudly.

Kaylee punches him in the arm.

“He’ll make it better. After the screaming, it’ll be better,” River murmurs, turning back to the Preacher’s book.

* * *

 

Mal hesitates outside Inara’s quarters. _What on Earth That Was am I doing here?_ He furrows his brow and storms into Inara’s chamber.

“Inara, you better have a durn good reason for skippin’ out on our party, or…” Mal rounds the silk banners hanging from the ceiling that provide a semi-doorway and stops mid-stride.

Mal stands stupefied in front of her silken couch, as Inara quickly tries to regain her composure and straighten her outfit. Mal’s quick eyes notice her hand coming out of her waistband first, her harsh breathing second.

“On second thought, maybe I should bring the party in here. Looks like you’re havin’ enough fun for all of us.” Mal grins lasciviously at her outraged expression.

“Mal, how dare you! How many times have I told you, you can’t just barge in here whenever you feel like it!” Inara stands abruptly, only a little bit wobbly, and manages to look appropriately scornful.

“I expect one time less than you’da wish you had.” Mal can’t keep his eyes off of where her hand had come sneaking out from her waistline.

“You’re a lǘ zi, Mal. Get out.” Inara folds her arms across her breasts and glares at him with all the intensity she can muster, which is considerable, given the timing of Mal’s interruption.

“Wait a minute, little missy. If I recall correctly, last time I was here, you offered me tea n’ a bit of couch. Now all I get is the boot?” Mal lays it on thick, takin’ enjoyment in her embarrassment. Hell, if he were embarrassed every time he got caught with his hand in his own cookie jar, he woulda died of embarrassment when he was 16, like every other male.

Inara turns her back on him, walks to the basin and washes her hands and splashes her face. She uses a scented hand towel to dry off, and replaces it just as it was before. She moves to the makeshift kitchen and puts on some tea.

Mal watches her admiringly, although discreetly. No good havin’ the crew thinkin’ he’s lost his nut over some female, much less Inara. He’d lose all credibility.

Inara finishes the tea and brings the tray to the table in front of the couch. Mal notices she only brought one tea cup.

“Are you still here? I thought I made it plain I want you to leave.” Inara’s tone comes out just as icy as she wanted, but instead of feeling glad she can still hold her own, she feels sad.

“As your ladyship commands,” says Mal, mockingly bowing to Inara. He heads for the door, but stops right out of sight, still inside her chamber. “Just thought you might need a hand, is all.”

Gorram, now what made him go and say a thing like that? Likely she’s getting out a gun right now to shoot me. Mal pauses, listening. He coulda swore he heard… no. Inara, crying? He’d never seen her shed a tear, not even when he ruined that new dress of hers with engine oil that one time. Okay, twice, but who’s countin’?

Mal peeks his head around the silk banners, and indeed, Inara *is* crying. Quiet, dignified little noises, though, not the loud, dramatic sobs he’s used to from Kaylee. The noise makes his stomach feel funny, like a dragonfly got holda his guts and was flying around inside.

“Inara… I’m… sorry. Okay? I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. You know I can’t tolerate a female cryin’.” Inara briefly stops her small indiscretions to glance up at him, and then begins again, this time turning away from him and hiding her face in a silk scarf.

Mal slowly sits next to her on the couch. “You know I didn’t mean it. I was just talkin’ rubbish, and we all know how good I am at…”

Inara silences him with a hand, still facing away from him. “No, Mal. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just… upset.”

“Oh. Is it because I walked in on you… well, you know…? ‘Cuz it’s no big deal, you know. Seen it a thousand times, I have. Walked in on all kindsa folk doing all kindsa things, you wouldn’t believe. Or maybe you would, being in your profession and all… but I certainly never…”

Inara turns towards him and places her hand on his arm. “Mal! Hush. I’m not upset because you walked in on me. Well, yes, I am, but that’s not why I’m upset now.”

Mal looks down at her hand on his arm and feels a surprisin’ little twinge in his pants. Females crying and being upset ain’t supposed to turn a man on. Mal clears his throat and reflexively, Inara retracts her hand. Also ain’t supposed to be disappointed when an upset female stops touchin’ you, neither.

“So, why are you upset then?” Mal can’t catch her eyes. She’s looking at everything but him. “Inara? I’m your Captain; I’m here to help you. If you’re in some sorta trouble, we can work it out.”

This springs a new tear in Inara’s eye, but she laughs bitterly. “You don’t want this problem, Mal. Trust me.”

Mal takes her hands in his and looks her straight in the eye. “Try me.”

Inara is silent for a moment, then abruptly pulls away from his touch and stands. Mal’s body reacts to her pulling away, too. Damnation. She begins pacing the room, twisting her hands like she got a gorram Reaver in her grip, trying to snap its head off.

“Inara, you’re makin’ me nervous-like, what with all the pacin’ and such. You wanna tell me what’s going on before I call in the rest of the crew?”

Inara flings herself on the ground in front of him and grabs his arms, eyes wild and scared. “No! No, you musn’t do that. *Qǐng,* Mal, don’t tell anyone.”

Mal is taken aback for a moment, but recovers quickly. She’s close enough he can smell her, the fragrance soft and mysterious, just like her. What in the sphincter hell is he doing? Argh! He slowly eases back out of her grip and places her hands in her own lap.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone who’s not involved.” Mal swears solemnly.

Inara narrows her eyes, wary. She knows how tricky Mal can be with wording something when he wants to be. Then again, she knows that this problem can only be solved between the two of them, so there’s really no reason not to take him at his word. She breathes deeply and begins.

“Okay, here goes. But Mal, you must understand that this matter is of the utmost discretion.”

Mal rolls his eyes. “Yeah, woman, I heard you. Now git up here, proper-like, and tell me what your problem is. You got me more strung-up than a cat in a mud bog.” Mal tugs on her arms, and Inara obligingly sits next to him on the couch, head low.

“Mal, how much do you know about Companions?”

Mal smirks. “Enough to know not to get within 50 feet of one. Exceptin’ you, I suppose.”

Inara shoots him a warning look, but continues. “Well, as a Companion, we are called upon often to…please our clients, as I’m sure you know.”

“Oh, you mean whorin’? Sure, know all about that bit.”

“All right, if you’re going to insult me again, you can just leave now, Mal.”

“You’re right. Continue.” Mal waves his hand dismissively in apology. Inara nods.

“As I was saying, we are called upon often to please our clients. Part of pleasing a client is to… be pleased, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t follow. You mean you gotta be happy while you’re whor--- I mean, pleasing a client?”

Inara sighs. “No, Mal. I mean that part of a gratifying client experience is not only the client deriving pleasure from the encounter, but the client knowing I derived pleasure from the encounter as well. Do you know what I mean?”

Mal shifts uncomfortably. This is a turn in the conversation he sure did not expect. “Yyyyes, I believe I do. Go on.”

Inara clears her throat delicately. “Part of the training and schooling to be a Companion involves how to…derive pleasure from those encounters.” She looks at Mal to confirm he’s following her, and can see from his uneasy expression that he does. She almost smiles at that, but decides it’s not the right time to make Mal feel any more uncomfortable than he already does.

“So, that leads me to my problem. I’ve been… trained, I suppose you could say, to… derive pleasure… at least every few days, a week, at most, if necessary. Without… deriving pleasure periodically, a Companion goes through symptoms, you could say. Sadness, lethargy, moodiness, and other unpleasant feelings, both mental and physical.” Mal’s expression is one of intense concentration, his brow furrowed. He’s really trying to understand what she’s trying to tell him.

“Mal, it’s been four weeks since my last client. As you can imagine from what I just told you, I’m getting to the point where I can barely function as a rational being from day to day.”

“Rational? Hah. If you’ve ever been rational, I’d like to know when.” Mal looks over into her scowling face and sighs resignedly. “What’s the game plan then?”

“There is no plan.” Inara’s small, confused frown made the dragonfly in Mal’s stomach roar back to life, dragging his guts along with it.

“So when I…you know, barged in, you were tryin’ to…” Mal falters, unable to say the words for what he knows she was doin’. But he’ll be thinkin’ about it tonight, alone, in his bunk, he can guarantee that much.

“Well, yes, but no. It doesn’t work that way. Even if I… derive pleasure… myself, it doesn’t make the bad feelings go away. Only someone else pleasuring me can fix that.” Inara quickly looks away, her cheeks burning. She can’t believe she’d actually had the guts to tell him about her condition, let alone imply that she needed his help.

“Hmm.” Mal’s thinking, hand on chin. _This can’t be good_ , Inara thinks. “Two things, really. One...” he counts off on his fingers, “why were you…doing that when I walked in, then? And two… what am I supposed to do about it?”

Inara groans inwardly and rolls her eyes. Mal can be such an idiot sometimes. “To answer your first question, I was hoping I could alleviate at least some of my discomfort. Which, by the way, thanks again for interrupting.” Mal grins. “Secondly, I thought I made myself clear earlier. I’m asking you to help me.” This time Inara feels no shame and looks Mal square in the eyes.

“Whoa!” Mal jumps up, skittish as a newborn colt and backs up a step or two. “Hold on a minute there. Why me? Why not… someone else?” _Do you want her to be pleasured by someone else, Mal, you idiot?_ He thinks, belatedly.

Inara rolls her eyes. “Believe me, Mal. I’ve thought and thought about it. Do you think I *wanted* to ask you for help? It’s just that there’s no one else. Zoe and Wash are married, so they’re both out. The Preacher’s out, for obvious reasons. Jayne, I just don’t trust; and River’s not an option, either.”

Mal runs his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. “What about Simon? Or… or, Kaylee?” Mal’s mind is racing, racing to get as far away from the inevitable conclusion of this conversation. Even though his body might take kindly to what Inara’s suggesting, his brain is screaming to run. RUN.

Inara crosses her hands patiently. “Mal, you know as well as I do that Kaylee fancies Simon. So neither of them is a possibility if I want to keep my friendship with Kaylee. Which I do.”

Mal begins pacing the floor. Inara sits quietly, smiling slightly at his discomfort. If she had known that it was this easy to rile Mal up before, it would have been hard not to ask him before she actually needed his help. She notices the moment he makes the decision, if only because he stops pacing and stares at her with a somewhat horrified look. Inara’s patience wears thin.

“Look, Mal, I never intended to ask you for this. It’s never been a problem before. I’ve always been able to schedule clients with enough frequency that…”

“Yes, I know. That you could pleasure them and vice-a versa.” Mal is surprised by the less-than-subtle hint of malice in his tone. As if he were jealous, which he’s not. Is he?

Inara stands up and moves toward the middle of the room, toward him. Mal staggers backward, still shocked by the notion that Inara wants him to… to… gah.

“I’m sorry, Mal. I obviously made a mistake in asking you. Please forget that I did. Would you please leave now?” Inara gestures toward the door, as if ushering him out of a social function, polite but distant. Mal turns and starts walking towards the door reflexively.

“Wait, now, Inara. I haven’t… I mean, I didn’t… gorramit!” Mal turns around quickly, only to find Inara following right behind him. She seems to lose balance, and Mal grabs her around the waist to steady her.

“Oh!” Inara’s tiny gasp of surprise isn’t lost on Mal. In fact, the dragonfly in his stomach’s had babies and they’re all partying in there now. And the twinge in his pants has become more of a twang.

Mal can’t find any words to express what he’s thinking. He may not be thinking at all, but… he leans forward and with his free hand tucks a lock of hair behind Inara’s ear. Her eyelids flutter momentarily, and Mal’s vision narrows to her luminescent eyes, so dark and rich. Makes a man feel like he’s falling down a well, it does.

Inara blinks out of her reverie, and opens her mouth to speak. In that moment, Mal takes her mouth with his. Not roughly, like she would have thought, but slowly, like he’s savoring the last apple on the ship. Reverently. And not without passion, just slow, like the making of tea. _A watched pot never boils_ , Inara thinks incoherently.

Mal caresses both sides of her face while kissing her, tasting her lips and breathing in her scent. He pauses for a brief moment to look into her eyes clearly, without the haze of lust that’s threatening to engulf him entirely. “Inara,” Mal huskily murmurs. “I’ve decided to help you. By God, I *want* to help you.”

Inara promised herself that even if by some remote chance Mal actually agreed to her plan, she would remain professional. That things wouldn’t get out of hand. She needed something from him; he was going to provide it, end of story. But hearing her name on his lips like that strikes a chord deep within her, and she knows instantly that no matter what happens next, she’ll never be able to go back, to hold him at a distance. And that it’s already too late. She won’t, and doesn’t want to, stop him now for anything in Earth That Was.

* * *

 

“I am not payin’ you ‘til we know for sure the Cap’n n’ Inara have...” Kaylee giggles “you know…” She picks up another card from the deck and frowns at it. “Besides, it’s only been…an hour.” Her voice falters and she sets a card down on the table. “I’m sure they’re not…”

Jayne guffaws. “Well, if they’re not, Mal’s got more explainin’ to do than he oughta.”

River takes her card from the deck and smiling broadly, lays her hand face-up on the table. Jayne looks at her hand and throws his down. Kaylee giggles and hugs River.

“Gorram, not again. That’s seven in a row. Simon, you better tell your sister here to stop cheatin’ or I’m gonna…”

Simon studiously ignores Jayne, but River looks right at him, through him. “Bad boys get a beating. Beat in two, crushed to glue… Besides, you’re a bad bluffer.” River sticks her tongue out at Jayne.

Kaylee giggles and Jayne glares at River. “I wish they’d hurry up whatever it is they are doin’. I’m runnin’ out of money.”

* * *

Inara and Mal lay tangled on her couch, legs and arms entwined, Mal leaning over her from one side, so as to not miss looking at her body frequently. Mal continues kissing her lips, her face, her ears, keeping his hands to himself. He’s still not sure what the rules are, and he doesn’t want to take advantage. Criminy, yes, he does; but he won’t take advantage, more to the point. He will not…

Inara mewls beneath him and shifts slightly. _Pì huà._ Mal didn’t think it was going to be this difficult to honor Inara’s request. But every time she moves underneath him or makes noise or looks at him with those… eyes… of hers, he just wants to tear into her like a starvin’ man getting a good meal. I mean, heck, it’s been a while, but not long enough for him to lose control. _It’s her damn wiles again_ , Mal thinks. _T’ain’t my fault._

Inara sneaks a look up at Mal. He actually looks like he’s thinking about something… probably the ship or some other woman. She sighs. “Mal.” No response, just some more absent-minded petting of her hair. Which is nice, *really* nice, but not exactly…

“Mmmuh?” Mal blinks down at her. She’s talking to him, her wet, slightly parted lips forming words. Mal doesn’t hear them, can’t hear anything anymore except the beatin’ of his pulse. Fast. He can taste her though, still on his lips. He licks them experimentally. Yup, Inara. He bends to taste her again.

“Mal!” Inara urges, placing her hands on his chest. Muscular chest, she notices. Warm.

Mal snaps out of it. “What, woman? Dang, I swear you have the uncanniest way of ruinin’ a man’s mood.” He didn’t mean it to sound as harsh as it came out, but he’s used to that. Somehow he never ends up saying what he means around Inara.

She frowns at him and pushes on his chest so that Mal falls back against the couch, and away from her body. Mal sighs and sits up, Inara doing the same.

“Mal, as pleasant as this is, it’s not really accomplishing anything.” Inara hates the professional in her sometimes, always wanting to get down to business and have it over with. _Mal’s not a client, you fool._

“But it is pleasant,” Mal notes with a definite note of satisfaction.

Inara wavers. “Well, yes, but…”

“Well then I’d say we was accomplishing something. Ever heard of ‘settin’ the mood’?” Mal asks in mock honesty.

Inara snorts. “As if *you’d* know the first thing about setting the mood.”

“Seems to me I was doin’ a pretty good job of it, and I weren’t hearin’ no complaints from your side a’ things, neither, not until you had to go and interrupt my train of thought…”

Inara pounces on his last words. “Yes, just exactly what *were* you thinking about, Mal? Seems like you were biān cháng mò jí.”

Mal looks indignant. “I was not! I was thinkin’ ‘bout…” Mal can’t bring himself to tell her he was thinking about her, how not to hurt her, and how much he enjoyed touchin’ her, kissin’ her.

Inara snorts. “Just stop right there, Mal. I don’t really need to hear that you were thinking about someone else, okay? Look, I know you didn’t want to do this, but…”

Mal grabs Inara’s arms and gives her a small-ish shake. “Now you listen here, bèn dàn.” Inara is too shocked by Mal’s aggressiveness to be indignant at his rough-shod handling of her. “If you must know, I was thinkin’ about *you,* Inara. How beautiful you are, how soft your hair is, how good it smells.” Mal twists a lock of her hair around his finger and brings it up to his nose, inhaling. He lets himself shiver visibly, allowing Inara to witness his vulnerability in the situation. _If she feels safe, feels in control, this whole thing will go a lot smoother,_ Mal thinks. Mal briefly wonders when Inara’s well-being became so important to him.

Inara examines Mal’s face intently, nodding. “I’m sorry, Mal. This is difficult for me.” She touches his face gently, apologetically. “I hope you know how much I appreciate… this.”

Mal sucks in a breath when Inara looks away. This was tricky, but worth it. If he can actually… help Inara, it will be worth it.

“So what do we do now?” Mal asks quietly, playing the inexperienced client role he’s adopted to reel Inara in.

Inara turns back to him and smiles softly. “Continue setting the mood?” Her eyes promise passion and Mal wonders if it’s directed at him specifically, or just her Companion skills coming out naturally. He decides he doesn’t care; this isn’t about him. _You’re not a client, Mal._ How many times is he going to have to remind himself of that?

* * *

 

Mal wasn’t sure if Inara knew he was playing dumb, but if she did, she certainly wasn’t fessin’ up. He was lettin’ her call the shots, tell him what to do. Not that Mal minded, either. Currently, he was nuzzling her neck, one hand fondling a breast. Inara’s head was thrown back, back arching slightly.

Mal decides to take a few liberties with his role. Truth be told, he was gettin’ a mite impatient. Mal slinks lower down her body, hands pulling off her shirt from the inside. Inara tenses briefly, then lifts to allow him to slide the shirt off her arms. Mal’s brain freezes for a moment looking at her, disbelieving his good fortune. Inara’s always been… on his mind, and now here he is, having his way with her, at her request. Boy, did he win the lottery, or what?

Mal smiles against her lower stomach, tickling her abdomen with his stubble. He shaved this morning, but after a very long day, he was bound to be a bit rough along the edges. Inara breathes in hard, eliciting another wicked grin from Mal. He runs his hands along her ribs, gently pushing her arms away from her sides. She settles them above her head. Mal takes a mental picture, her eyes closed, hair splayed across several silk pillows, breasts jutting out and puckered at the tips. Breathtakin’.

Mal moves over her again to settle on his side, mouth poised above a glistening nipple. He slides his hand underneath the waistband of her harem-like pants, resting his hand firmly on her lower stomach. He can feel the heat radiating from her body and he wonders again if she’s hot for him or if this is part of her “training”. Mal mentally shakes his head and flicks his tongue out to tease her slowly receding nipple back into a hard point. Inara hisses with a sharp intake of breath and opens her eyes to look at Mal.

Mal looks back at her, suckling at her breast harder. He wants to see what kind of reaction she puts out. Her eyelids flutter, but she makes no noise, just small movements of restlessness. A hand here, a foot there. She’s unreasonably controlled, Mal thinks. It’s time to do something about that.

He slides his hand further downward, reaching the place generating all the heat he was just feeling. Without giving her time to get used to his hand there, Mal repositions his fingers, sliding one inside her. Mal almost groans with desire. She’s not just hot, but wet. Accommodatin’, ready. He could slip inside her so easily right now…

_Xǐng wù, Mal. She’s not yours for the taking._ Mal resists the urge to cough and continues sliding his finger in and out of Inara. He twists his thumb around to massage her clitoris, and in the gasp from Inara, slides his middle finger inside her, too. She thrashes her head delicately away from him, finally making a small amount of noise.

Smiling in satisfaction, Mal begins to suck on her nipple with just enough force to cause her back to bow toward him, toward his mouth and fingers both.

Inara’s eyes fly open again and she stares at Mal bewildered. She’s never lost sight of the goal before with a client. It’s always about the client’s pleasure, not her own. Having Mal solely committed to pleasuring her is unnerving… and actually working. She doubted that she could actually let her control go long enough to be satisfied by him, but he was giving her no choice. Mal simply evoked the right responses from her. She had long since stopped telling him what to do, and he was doing just fine on his own. More than fine, actually… and for once, she desired more from someone than what she originally intended.

Mal notices Inara’s furrowed brow and concentrates double-time on his task. Make her come. Make her come. His fingers were slick with her wetness and he used it to rub all the right places. But he wanted more. He wanted to taste her.

Letting her nipple escape with a satisfying smacking sound, Mal quickly descends to kneel in front of Inara. He hooks his fingers into her waistband and gently tugs her pants down, and a tiny silken slip of underwear, too. Mal glances up at Inara and if he didn’t know better, he coulda sworn she was blushin’.

Mal runs his hand along her thigh, pressing the inside of her knee outward. She resists, making a tiny noise of protest in her throat.

“Mal…” Inara feels too out of control. This isn’t how she imagined it happening. Not that she imagined such a thing… she certainly wasn’t thinking about something eerily similar when Mal barged into her quarters earlier.

Mal doesn’t say anything, just looks up at her with eyes ablaze with hunger. Inara resists a moment longer, and then gives in. She’d do just about anything to keep that look in his eyes. Mal eases her legs apart and trails his fingers along the insides of her thighs, nails softly scraping their way from her knees all the way up. Another agonizing moment passes, and another. Mal waits. He blows air toward her heat, watches the hair ruffle slightly. Inara’s legs tremble a little, and Mal notices that she closed her eyes again, leaning back against the pillows.

Mal admires the soft curve of her belly, her creamy skin, her dimpled knees, the turn of her ankle. When he feels she’s had enough time to calm down, Mal dives in swiftly and swipes his tongue from her fount up past her clit, one long stroke. She smells delicious and exotic, like Japanese plums and almonds. Inara’s hips buck upwards to follow the path of his tongue and Mal chuckles silently. In some ways, she was so easy to read. It was obvious even to him that she hadn’t let anyone give her pleasure just for the hell of it recently. It was always about business.

Turns out to be a good thing for him. She was laid out before him, body thrumming with want, waiting for his cue. He smiles, thinking he’s probably the only person to see her from this angle in a long time. Makes him hard just to think about it. She was his, gorramit. At least for the next few minutes. More determined than ever, Mal begins his assault, licking, sucking, pulling her skin with his tongue, his teeth.

* * *

“… the man they call Jayne!” Jayne’s obnoxious voice rings out through the mess hall as he finishes his ballad, gesturing grandly with his cup, sloshing the homemade rotgut all over the table and cards. Kaylie and River giggle and even Simon looks slightly less uptight than normal after several cups.

River claps her hands and bounces in her seat beside Jayne. “Again!”

Simon groans. “Nooo, River, don’t encourage him.”

Jayne wobbles a knife in Simon’s general direction and takes a deep breath. “Heeeeeeeee… robbed from the rich, and gave to the poor…”

River laughs and claps her hands as Simon sinks his head into his hands. Kaylie lays a sympathetic hand on Simon’s shoulder but can’t help smiling.

* * *

 

Inara’s panting sounds overly loud, even to her own ears. She throws her head back against the couch, trying to remember if she’s ever felt this out of control before. Funny thing, really. She’d always wondered what it would be like if she ever gave in to wanting Mal, but she never thought it’d be like this… hot, passionate, devouring. She’d always assumed she’d teach him some things and he’d be grateful, not the other way around.

Mal glanced up at Inara’s face and smiled at her head lolling from side to side. He was glad he still had *some* tricks up his sleeve. Too bad this was a one-time thing, though. He’d love to see her hair flowing down her back as she licked and sucked his… _Gorram, stop thinkin’, Mal. It’s never gonna happen._

Mal pushed his tongue flat against Inara’s clit and pressed firmly, eliciting another long moan from her. He slid his still-damp fingers into her, and Inara wrapped her ankles around Mal’s neck, pulling him closer. Mal grinned again and kept at it, knowing that each stroke of his tongue and each thrust of his fingers was bringin’ her closer and closer to orgasm… and that it was gonna be a good one, when she finally did come. He’d never minded that women took a long time to settle down and let themselves get pleasured, but this time he was ‘specially lookin’ forward to the end product. He couldn’t help wonderin’ what she was gonna sound like, look like, feel like, and taste like as she flowed over his tongue.

Mal’s eyes snapped open in surprise when he felt Inara’s fingers in his hair. He looked up at her again, fingers still moving inside her. He moved his tongue to her thigh, sucking on her creamy skin, then biting down hard enough to make a mark. Inara jerked and hissed, pulling his head back by his hair. Her eyes were wild and for a moment Mal was sure she was gonna kick his ass.

Inara couldn’t think of a single thing. Definitely couldn’t remember why she’d resisted taking Mal to bed this long. The only thought, if you could even call it that, running through her head was the same feeling pulsing throughout her entire body. Must have Mal. Must feel Mal. Need him. Want him. Now.

She moved her hands down to his arms and pulled up as she slid forward at the same time, successfully positioning them both so that Mal sat on his knees and Inara straddled his legs. She noted his wide eyes second to the fact that he was still clothed. Now how had she let that happen? If he had been naked sooner, she was positive she would have come already. But then again, she reasoned, she wanted this to happen. So it was a good thing he hadn’t been naked. Somehow, it still didn’t seem right.

Mal’s hands kneaded Inara’s shoulders as he leaned forward to kiss her. He assumed that’s what she wanted. He was surprised again when Inara turned her face away from him, yanking his shirt out of his trousers. He watched her face as he leaned backward slightly to let her unfasten his suspenders and pull off his shirt. When she was done, Mal pulled her to him and bounced her slightly up and down to rub against his chest. He groaned when he felt her nipples drag down, then back up, his chest. Her eyes looked sleepy, glazed over, and Mal knew she had lost whatever focus she had momentarily had.

He slowly ran his hands around her waist to her buttocks and squeezed her ass. She arched toward him and he felt her hands on the back of his neck, holding on. He grabbed a handful of flesh in each hand and lifted, separating her cheeks. Her breathy moans encouraged him and he pushed her down onto his erection, hardly caring that her dripping warmth was creating a stain on his pants. Inara’s nails dug into his back and they both growled.

Inara rode his hard-on, increasingly dissatisfied with his state of dress, but loathe to cease the pressure on her clit for the few precious moments it would take to take off his pants. After a few more minutes of hard rocking and grinding, Inara tumbled off Mal’s lap onto the floor beside him and flew at his trousers. She ripped open the button without breaking it and yanked down the zipper. She narrowed her eyes at him when he didn’t move to help her get his pants off and bared her teeth. He raised his hands in a surrendering gesture and lifted up on his knees so she could shove his pants down to his knees.

When his cock sprang free, Inara lunged at it and scooped it into her mouth in a frenzy of passion. She felt more than heard Mal grunt loudly and pushed back against him when he automatically surged forward with his hips. She laid her hands on his thighs and gently pressed down, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock, all the while sucking hard. No time for games anymore.

Inara tugged at his cock once more with her tongue and sat up suddenly, earning her a disappointed groan. She looked briefly at Mal and she saw there what she knew he saw, too – hunger. She managed to stumble to a standing position and grabbed Mal’s arm to pull him to a sitting position on the couch. He reached for her and she didn’t resist this time. He pulled her into his lap for a kiss and though she had trouble doing both at the same time, she plundered Mal’s mouth with her tongue while straddling his legs and positioning herself right above his throbbing cock.

Mal hadn’t been thinking of what it meant when Inara removed his clothes, or when she had used her wonderful, glorious mouth on him, or when she had pushed him onto the couch and sat in his lap. So when she lowered herself onto his extremely hard dick and he finally realized that she meant to bed him, something in his brain snapped and he lost it. He kissed her harder and harder, thrusting up into her as she slammed back down onto him, over and over. He forgot all about his promise to her, forgot what they weren’t to each other, forgot everything but how good it felt to be inside her ( _finally_! his brain screamed), as deep inside her as he could be. He rolled his hips in a tight circle, keeping his hands on Inara’s waist, pushing and pulling her against him in time with his thrusts. He knew that every time he pulled her close, her clit rubbed against his cock, and he made sure she didn’t miss a beat.

Mal ordinarily would have prolonged the event, slowing and stopping for several moments at a time, then restarting the whole process over and again. This time, however, he couldn’t even form an action plan. All there was, was her. Her hips, her breasts swaying in front of him, her tight hot wetness enveloping him. He threw his head back and continued to thrust upward, even when it seemed he could go on no more. He began chanting in his head to time his thrusts. _In-ara, In-ara, In-ara…_

Inara couldn’t breathe. Along with her willpower, Mal’d stolen her breath, too. She wasn’t sure how she was still alive, but she was pretty sure it had something to do with his huge, warm hands on her hips, controlling her movements, and his long, hard cock pushing against her clit and inside her, alternately. She slid down his length, then let him pull her back again, over and over. Each time he buried himself inside her, she got that much fuzzier about the process. All she could do was let him do what he would with her body. She no longer had any say over what happened, couldn’t possibly, since the only thing she wanted in the world he was giving to her right now.

Mal feared he was slowing down, and worried that Inara hadn’t come yet. He hadn’t yet, either, but if he closed his eyes for two seconds and simply felt her heat surrounding him, he would shoot like a steam engine into her. So when he felt Inara’s legs begin to tremble and her fingers clutching desperately at his arms, his passion flared anew. He flipped Inara onto her back, one of his legs against the couch cushion and the other on the floor, so that he was half-standing, half-lying on top of her. Her grip didn’t move from his arms and he could feel her nails digging into his skin. He pounded into her, arching his back and closing his eyes. He prayed to the God he no longer believed in that he would last for her, even as he began to come.

Inara felt Mal’s entire body tighten above hers and she knew he was about to orgasm. She squeezed her thighs together around his waist and tightened her muscles to milk his orgasm from him. As she did, his arms almost gave out, but he held himself up, still pushing deep, deep inside her. He snuck a hand down between them and blindly fumbled for her clit. When he found it, he rubbed it in a circle to match his movements inside her. Inara gasped and clutched at his back.

“Zào wù zhǔ, Inara, I’m gonna come…” Mal ground out.

“Oh, Mal, God, yes.” Inara begged, approaching the crescent of her own orgasm. “Please, Mal, don’t stop.”

Mal hung on as long as he could, but it wasn’t much longer until he really was coming, coming so deep inside her, subconsciously pushing it into her as far as he could, trying to bury his seed in her. He moaned long and low, his fingers erratic on her clit. Inara bucked up against him, hearing his moan, and came, shouting their victory and his name into the black.

* * *

River sighed happily, closed her eyes and laid the deck of cards face-down on the table. Jayne was passed out a few chairs down, head on his arm, drool collecting on the table below him. Kaylie had fallen asleep leaning against Simon, who was sleeping upright in his chair (a side-effect of medical school, being able to sleep anywhere). Shepherd Book had left for his bunk long ago, as had Wash and Zoe.

And now, mommy and daddy weren’t fighting anymore, either. Quite the opposite, if she wasn’t mistaken. River giggled and then smiled contentedly, looking around at her new home and family. Yes, who would ever leave serenity?


End file.
